


Dinner and a Show

by zombiecheetah



Series: Where Loyalties Lie [3]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Comfort Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, Happy Fandral, M/M, POV Loki (Marvel), PWP, Sex with Friends!, Shameless Smut, Threesome - F/F/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, fun sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 14:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13719630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiecheetah/pseuds/zombiecheetah
Summary: After a very bad dinner with very bad company, Loki goes looking for a distraction and boy does he find one. Well, two.





	Dinner and a Show

**Author's Note:**

> A belated Valentine's Day shameless smut fic with these assholes. 
> 
> Like Loki, I also enjoy comments and validation and welcome both! For fic updates, my tumblr is zombiecheetah. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Loki wondered just how drunk he would need to be every day to agree to marry the wife of his father’s dear friend from years past, whose family had come to visit. The dinner he was currently attending with them was much too long and frankly unbearable. The woman would just _not stop talking_ , and every word of drivel that poured from her much too wide mouth was like a hammer to his eardrum, and he could feel himself grow stupider by the minute. Several points in the evening he had nearly leaned over to Thor to beg him to take him out with his own beloved hammer, but Thor's attention was singularly focused on the daughter the couple had brought along with them, his blue eyes sparkling as she whispered into his ear, both totally ignoring their food, his hand lightly stroking the back of her own. Hook, line, sinker. And despite knowing that he was not exactly for want of lovers himself, Loki couldn't help but feel slighted that the daughter had barely acknowledged his presence. But when your brother was the God of Thunder, golden hair and muscles galore, one grew used to being ignored and set aside. 

He sighed, remembering Frigga's warning to him to not play any of his usual tricks. These particular guests apparently had too much influence, too much of a hold on his father for him to simply turn their goblets into snakes as much as he so _desperately_ wanted to. He left as soon as he found a somewhat polite window to excuse himself in, claiming an early start the next morning, but please do continue on without him, his plastered smile immediately dropping from his face as soon as he left the hall.

His head was ringing, his lips pressed tightly together. What he needed was a place no one would dare call him from. Sigyn’s room perhaps, but he was not sure if she had completed her shift at the infirmary. A recent battle had commanded more of her time than either of them liked, and the hours had been particularly grueling on her, though she tried not to show it. Still, better to allow the poor girl some rest. Fandral’s room it was then. He was only on occasion annoying and definitely less so when his mouth was used for more pleasurable means.

It was his lucky night he supposed when he pushed opened the door to the warrior’s room and found Sigyn lounging on Fandral’s large fur covered bed. She had changed out of her navy healing skirts and into a lighter lavender shift with a book in her hand, her dark curls out of its usual pile on the top of her head instead cascading over her shoulders. Fandral was shirtless and holding a glass of wine while leaning against the wall, his grin easy and his eyes shockingly less glassed over than usual. Both seemed happy to see him, Sigyn’s smile was contagious as she set her book aside and Fandral threw back the last of his drink before tossing the empty cup onto his floor.

“Kill me now,” Loki muttered, closing the door behind him and magically shifting out of his formal wear and into loose pants and a shirt. “Death is better than listening to that prattle.”

Sigyn stood from the bed and made her way over to him, her warm hands smoothing over his chest. “I am sure you fought well,” she soothed, leaning up to briefly kiss him, her lips sweet on his and such a welcome change from the torture he had just endured. She took his hand in his and kissed it, leading him to the bed.

“Death seems a bit too harsh a sentence, my friend,” Fandral continued, slowly walking around to him, “If you die who will then be here to swordplay with me in both senses of the word?”

“You hear that, Mischief? If you die, Fandral will never sleep with anyone again,” Sigyn teased. She moved behind him once he was seated, his feet hanging off the edge of the bed. Her fingers traced lightly over his shoulders until her hands slowly began to massage the back of his neck, working out the knots and loosening the tightness in his muscles. He felt a calming warmth fill him as she touched him, wondering briefly if she was using magic or not and then deciding he didn’t care. The decision to start courting her had paid off in spades. Her compassion that he usually dismissed in others as naive was paired with an intelligence and talent he could not help but be hopelessly attracted to. She grounded him, more than he liked to admit, kept him sane around the palace, as her fingers were at the moment, making the dinner he had just left dissipate into distant memory.

“She may be exaggerating,” Fandral said playfully, his eyes stunningly blue this evening, leaning down to nudge the prince's legs apart so he could kneel between them, his hands smoothing up the green fabric covering his thighs. “However, perhaps with our assistance, you may see a reason to stay with us?”

Had they planned this? Sigyn had never joined them before, a sin that Fandral had asked them both on a few occasions if they could remedy. She had always stated her lack of objections but never fully accepted their invitation. He assumed she simply did not wish to bed Fandral, but perhaps he had been wrong. She seemed perfectly comfortable now, her lips now kissing his neck as her hands continued their blessed work down his back all while Fandral helped him out of his pants, bent down his head between his thighs and went to work.

Even though the warrior’s mouth was an old friend to him, his tongue and lips seemed to possess their own kind of magic, swiping over the veins and sucking the head of his cock before slowly taking him down his throat. The prince sighed in pleasure, reaching out to curl his fingers into Fandral’s locks, golden as the walls of the palace and just as well kept. Perhaps it was a complete lack of judgement on the warrior’s part that drew him to his chambers as he had enjoyed Loki in various forms without so much as a second glance. Not that Fandral had much room to judge, the Tart of Asgard was a title he wore with pride. Some thought the warrior pathetic, running from one warm body to another, although there was nothing at all pathetic about the warm wetness of Fandral's mouth and throat currently enveloping him. He rocked into Fandral, groaning at the feeling of Sigyn’s soft lips on his collarbone, his other hand reaching up into her hair, coarser and more textured than the warrior’s but just as lovely.

The room began to narrow for him, his breath coming out in pants. He pulled Sigyn's lips to him and buried a small cry into her mouth as he came in Fandral’s, the warrior easily swallowing him whole. He held onto the pair of them for a moment, Sigyn’s tongue swiping over his bottom lip as Fandral released his cock with a pop, still licking and suckling, preventing him from softening completely.

Sigyn wrapped an arm around his neck as she rested her chin on his shoulder. “Better?” he heard her murmur into his ear.

“Just divine,” he agreed, as Fandral got off his knees and climbed onto the bed with them, resting on his side. “Please do not tell me that is all you have planned for this evening.”

“Whatever you wish, my prince,” Fandral said with a wave of his hand. “The lady and I have no schemes to speak of. I am actually surprised she is still here as I never thought she would join us.”

“Nor did I,” Loki replied with interest, stroking her hair as he turned to her, “Pray tell, what did finally persuade you?”

She smiled kindly at the pair of them. “Just waiting for the right opportunity, I suppose. Besides,” she continued, glancing over to Fandral, “I believe our dashing friend will not rest until his curiosity is sated.”

“Now, now, milady,” Fandral replied slyly, moving over to her as Loki released her hair and turned to the two of them, pulling his legs onto the bed, “Dear Loki here speaks so highly of your time together. How could I not be interested in seeking pleasure with you?”

“Funny, I did not know that much speaking happened here at all,” she said dryly, as she sat back on her ankles, her shift ending just above her knees. Her dark eyes were bright, seeming to catch all of the light of the various candles Fandral had lit in his room.

“If I may then,” Fandral’s palm smoothed the silky fabric over her thigh, until his fingers reached the end of her shift, curling around the hem, “I would like to see what the prince has been keeping to himself.”

She laughed and gave a nod and the shift was pulled off and thrown to the floor, Fandral’s mouth and hands hungrily on her, kissing her like she was air, making the prince chuckle, as he settled in to watch. 

Loki was familiar with both of their plays in the bedroom and seeing them use such techniques on each other was making his cock hard again. Her hand was rubbed the front of the warrior’s pants, as she gave him full access to herself. Her body was a map and Fandral fancied himself an explorer, examining the curves and dips of her, admiring the softness of her skin, and performing his own experiments of pleasure, cupping her breast in his hand gently at first and then roughly, pinching her nipple, making her whimper.

The two of them were a sight to behold and the prince felt the need to participate. He moved so he was behind Fandral, kissing the back of his neck as he reached around his front, pulling the warrior's length from his pants. The warrior hummed in appreciation, as Loki began to stroke him, turning his head back for a moment to claim Loki’s lips as his own, the prince tasting the light saltiness of himself on his tongue.

“Norns,” Fandral growled under his breath, his gaze flicking at him and then Sigyn. “I do not know which of you I’d rather fuck at this moment.”

“The night has time for both,” the prince purred, releasing the warrior’s length and kissing his neck. Loki eyed Sigyn whom he noticed was clutching her thighs together, also looking for relief, “Do you not agree, my dear?”

“Of course.” She opened her legs and pulled Fandral’s hand between them, her eyes searching his for a reaction. “Would you like to be inside of me, Fan?” her voice low and husky, the look on Fandral's face making Loki wonder if he had come in that instant. 

“Are you always this wet?” Fandral breathed, as his fingers stroked her, “Norns, I understand now why the prince calls you 'Sin'…”

“She is very responsive,” Loki stated nonchalantly, watching the pair of them, captivated by Fandral’s look of need and Sigyn’s breathing which was becoming more labored as Fandral pulled her into his lap, her back flush against his chest. She lowered herself onto him with care, until he was buried to the hilt, a small moan escaping her lips. Fandral wrapped an arm around her, brushed her hair from her neck, and kissed her shoulder.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he cursed under his breath, his arm around her grasping her breast and his other hand smoothing over her ass, “Do you feel how well I fit inside of you, milady?”

“Fan…” she murmured, as his hips began to thrust. Loki, once again, unable to just sit back and watch, shed his shirt and settled in front of the pair. His hand smoothed over Fandral’s jaw kissing him hard for a moment before turning to Sigyn’s other shoulder, his fingers reaching down and feeling where the two were connected. He began to tease her as whispered sweetly into her ear about how lovely she looked spread like this, how well she was taking his friend's cock and how wet her cunt felt against his fingertips. Her pants turned to whimpers and then turned to sobs, begging the two of them to make her come. Fandral thrust up faster and Loki finally pressed down hard on her clit, making her shudder between them. Their names were a prayer of thanksgiving on her lips as she came, falling back against Fandral who held her tightly, his hips slowing, enjoying the feel of her clenching around him. They stayed there for a moment, Sigyn catching her breath, starting to shakily move, but was stopped by Loki's hand on her shoulder.

“Wait,” he instructed quietly, his fingers still on her folds. Fandral gave him a look that was devious but kept his hold on her tight as the prince began to rub what Loki assumed by the undignified sounds she was making, a very sensitive clit. “As I said, very responsive,” he said dryly as she broke, biting back a shriek. Fandral let out a sigh as he felt her flutter around him again, not pulling out of her until Loki removed his fingers from her and kissed her forehead sweetly. She stared up at him with a strange combination of annoyance and desire as she not so gracefully slid off Fandral, Loki catching her with a chuckle. “Was that acceptable then?” he asked her, his hands smoothing over her shoulders. 

“Fan fucked me admirably,” she gulped, nodding over to the headboard, glancing at Fandral. “Your turn, then.”

“Such a lady,” Loki murmured with a grin, as the three of them moved towards the excessive pile of pillows, Loki settling in on his back with Sigyn curled in next to him. He grinned at Fandral and gave a lazy flick of his wrist. Magic was never quite as effective as more traditional means of preparation, but it was faster and though he was usually patient, his cock was currently screaming at him for relief. “Do you need a moment, to catch your breath?” he asked the warrior, the look on Fandral's face an absolute confirmation that he, in fact, did not need a moment.

“My prince, I am always ready to fuck you,” Fandral growled, settling between his legs. He slid a finger into him first, feeling the slickness Loki had magically called upon before quickly withdrawing it and pushing his cock into him with a hiss. The prince let out a moan, the other man always felt so good inside of him, no matter if it was his ass in this form or his cunt in another, Fandral knew how to fuck him, his hips now snapping into his with determined need. 

Loki's arm snaked around Sigyn, who was kissing his collarbone, one hand stroking his neck while the other was buried between her legs, panting with him. He could come just like this, but he wanted more, something only this arrangement could give him. “Let me come inside you,” he begged her, his cock now weeping as his need coiled tightly in his gut, threatening to explode. She made a sound he assumed was one of agreement, throwing a leg over him and guiding him inside, riding him as her fingers continued their work. The feelings of Her hot folds around him combined with Fandral’s cock inside of him was nearly too wonderful to bear, and the sight of the two pleasuring him even more so. With a sharp gasp, he came with a shudder, his vision dark for a moment, spending himself inside of her as Fandral filled him with a low groan. Some combination of his cock and her fingers must have made Sigyn come again as well, as he could feel her pulsing around him, her gasps and pants joining his and Fandral’s as they all took a moment to pause, catching their breaths.

Once Fandral got his bearings, he slowly pulled out of him with a hiss and laid down on his other side, closing his eyes. “Next time less knee work for me,” he gulped. “Too much for an old man like me.”

“I am sure something can be arranged,” Loki soothed, reaching over to pat Fandral’s chest, as Sigyn slowly slid off him and back onto her side. “Just as I am sure Sigyn would not mind returning for another round sometime.”

“Not at all.” She reached over and patted Fandral on the arm. “I do believe you live up to the hype, Fan.”

“You say that like you expected me not too,” Fandral replied, acting offended, making her laugh before turning to Loki. “At the very least, would you say you no longer wish for death, my friend?”

He smiled. He had completely forgotten about the blasted dinner that had led him to this bed in the first place. “Only small deaths at the talented hands of the two of you.” Sigyn grinned and pulled a blanket over the three of them, kissing his ear and whispering that she loved him as Fandral struck up some conversation on the nature of sexual injuries he had experienced. Sigyn listened to the warrior with interest, offering up a story about a more naive healer apprentice who thought that Fandral was going to war every week. Loki was only half listening, lost once again in his own thoughts, finding himself in a rare state of appreciation as he glanced to Fandral, whose hand was brushing against his arm and Sigyn, who had curled into him and was now stroking his chest, perfectly content.

How lovely this night had turned out for him, his love and his lover making him feel so adored. Thor could not claim that his various seductions cared for him as these two did for him, he was too blind, too arrogant to see anything past his stupid hammer. Loki briefly wondered what ever happened with that woman his brother was salivating over this evening before deciding that it didn’t matter. Sigyn loved him, Fandral cared for him, and all of them now were warm and safe in the arms of each of each other. For now, at least, that was good enough for him.


End file.
